


Flowers of the soul

by Hectatess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Flowers, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 08:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19225693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: Soulmates are a thing, and you can get the tattoos from your sixteenth birthday up. There are 4 kinds. Bruises and minor injuries show up on your soulmate as cartoon flowers, temporary scars are realistic flowers like roses or lilies, permanent scars are ivy vines and leafs.And if your soulmate had died, love-lies-bleeding, right over your heart.Dean rarely gets even the smallest cartoon flowers, but he does get , so he knows he has a soulmate. But he has to hide it from his father, who lost his soulmate and is convinced they are nothing but heartache. Even mentioning the word can mean Dean or Sam gets the backside of John’s hand.Ever since he turned 16, Castiel regularly has cartoon flowers, all over his body. His big brother notices, but they agree to hide it from their meddling, over-enthusiastic mother.Now they’re all grown up, but none of them has found their mate yet. Will they ever?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NotfunnyDean (IronEyes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronEyes/gifts), [PrettyOddChild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyOddChild/gifts).



> How can one _not_ write when the prompt is ‘tattoos’?  
> Thanks @notfunnydean!  
> The comic by prettyoddchild did the rest.  
> Enjoy my second entry for Destiel Fresh Hits, which I now have to enter with a -42 handicap. YOU GUYS! *blushes happily*

When he was a child, Castiel’s mom had said if he had a soulmate, she would have to be a sweet and easygoing girl, because Castiel was such a caring, yet odd boy.

His first mark appeared almost on the day he turned sixteen, but he never told anybody, because it appeared in a scattering of little cartoon flowers, shaped like fingerprints on his biceps, along with a whole slew of them on his butt.  
He’d rather have his mom think he was someone without a soulmate, than let her know his was being abused.  
She’d turn the town upside down, and it wasn’t even sure his soulmate lived in Lawrence, Kansas.

Every week he would have new tattoos of cartoon flowers somewhere on his body, but never visible to others.   
Castiel’s heart bled for his soulmate, because, young as he was, he knew what it meant.  
Cartoon flowers on him, were bruises or minor injuries on his soulmate’s body.  
Realistic flowers, usually roses or lilies, were superficial scars that would fade after a while, like a scraped knee or barked knuckles.  
He just thanked the powers that be, that he didn’t get any ivy ones.  
Those were permanent scars, that would never fade.  
Or love-lies-bleeding over his heart... that meant his soulmate had died.

After about a year, Castiel’s marks stopped appearing so often, and he was happy about it.  
His mate was out of the abusive place they had been.  
Castiel’s family still didn’t know, and he graduated high-school mark free.  
Only to wake up with a lovely scattering of tattooed flowers around his left eye. Apparently his soulmate had a black eye.  
His mother shrieked like a Banshee when he came down.  
“Ooooh, Castiel! You have a soulmate! Oh sweetheart! I’m so happy for you!”

Gabriel, his brother, just raised his eyebrows, smirked evilly at him and casually remarked: “Well, whomever it is... they’ve got a real shiner!”  
Their mother frowned at him.  
“Gabriel Eric! I hope you’re not implying Castiel’s soulmate is a Tom-boy! She could have had a little mishap.”  
Gabriel just kept smirking and popped a sucker in his mouth.  
“I didn’t imply anything of the kind, mother,” he replied innocently.  
Castiel knew what Gabriel did imply, and he blushed.

Once, when they were in their early teens, Castiel had walked in on Gabriel as he was kissing Gadreel, a guy from his class.  
Castiel had gasped, but Gabriel had just pulled off with a wet pop and smirked.  
“Never been proven that your soulmate can’t be the same gender, Cassie-bean. Wouldn’t hurt to be prepared,” he’d grinned, before turning back towards Gadreel and locking lips once more.

Two years later, then sixteen year old Gabriel confided that he did have a soulmate, but until he’d found them, he was planning on kissing as many guys and girls as possible, because he wanted to know all the flavours, before committing to one.  
He had shown Castiel the 12 inch long vine of ivy that stretched across the small of his back to prove it.  
Fifteen year old Castiel had hugged his brother, and asked if that was the only ivy he had.  
Gabriel nodded, and showed him his left pec. It was blank.  
“And they’re still kicking, Cassie. Accidents will happen. Don’t sweat it.”

These two incidents had made Castiel think.  
For most of his childhood, he had simply believed what his mom had told him.   
She always referred to his and Gabriel’s soulmate’s as ‘her’ and ‘she’, adamantly implying they would be girls.  
But Castiel had never felt any pull towards girls, where Gabriel had started ogling them as early as eleven years old.  
“Ah, but Cassie, I have ogled guys just as long...” Gabriel had said when Castiel pointed that out.

And when three years later Gabriel had walked in on Castiel for the umpteenth time as Castiel left the shower, and noticed how the flowers were scattered in a different pattern for the third time in a row, Gabriel had given Castiel the third degree. After which he promised to not tell their mom.  
So, Gabriel had a fair point in his implication, but Castiel just sighed.   
He’d rather not have their mom know at all, let alone that his soulmate probably would be male.

She ran her hand through his hair, trying to make it behave.  
“I’m so happy for you, Castiel. I wonder why it didn’t show sooner though. She must be a very careful girl, that doesn’t have many accidents. That’s good news, hon.”  
Castiel bit his lip and remained silent.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean didn’t expect to ever have a mark show up, so when it did, just after Sammy’s birthday in the year Dean turned sixteen, he was shocked.  
It was just a teeny little flower on the very tip of his toe. Dean guessed his soulmate had stubbed it.  
He smiled and immediately showed his brother.  
“Sammy, look! I got one! I gotta find out who it is!”  
Sam had smiled widely and congratulated Dean happily.

He never told his Dad, because ever since his soulmate had died in that fire the local arsonist, Azazel, had started at their house, John Winchester had tried to convince his boys that soulmates meant heartache.  
And if they didn’t listen, he’d talk with his fists, or his belt. Especially if John had had a bit too much of the sauce.  
John had lugged the boys around, trying to locate Azazel, who’d dodged the cops for years.  
At times, he’d drop the boys off at Bobby Singer, and be gone for weeks on end.  
Those were the stable moments in their life.

Only four months after Dean had found the mark on his toe, did John find out about it too.  
He walked in on Dean telling Sam that he barely got anything.  
“Since the first one, I only got a few flowers on my arms, and one tiny rose, here on the inside of my wrist... I’m never gonna find them....”  
John had grabbed Dean roughly around his upper arm and dragged him over his knees.  
“You might be sixteen, Dean, but you ain’t too old for a spanking! I _told_ you... soulmates mean nothing but pain!”

After that, Dean seemed targeted. His father found reasons to vent his anger, frustration and grief on the boy.  
Dean didn’t bait him on purpose. He would just be saying things about his soulmate to Sam, who would blanch and quickly glance around if Dad was there.  
And every now and then, he was.  
John might be a drunken idiot, but he was smart enough to never leave visible marks on his son.

“Dean...” Sam plead one night, while Dean was nursing his aching ribs, “... why do you keep talking about it? You know how Dad gets...”  
Dean grimaced.   
“I’m trying to find them, Sammy. If I find them... I can get us out of here...”  
Sam made a soft noise and flung himself on his brother.  
“Sammy... OW... ribssss,” Dean groaned.  
Sam let up as little as possible.  
“Dean... don’t. It’s stupid... just stay safe,” he whispered to Dean’s chest.

John crashed his rented car into a tree, commode-hanging drunk, and died after a three week coma, only a year after Dean got his first mark.  
Sadly, it wasn’t before he’d hurt Sam too.   
In one of his drunken moods, he’d been gunning for Dean once more, when Sam had stepped in.  
John had flung him aside like a rag-doll, right against the mirror that hung in the hallway.  
The amount of blood gushing from the foot long cut in the boy’s back, had Dean punch John so hard, he knocked him out.

He wrestled the Impala’s keys from John’s pocket and drove Sammy to the ER, for once not caring about the upholstery.  
After that, Dean decided they should stay with Bobby, who had become their honorary uncle and surrogate Dad by now.   
While the doctors had patched up Sam, he’d raced home, packed up all of his and Sammy’s stuff and left in the Impala, never looking back.  
Bobby greeted them with open arms, a gruff hug and a ruffle through their hair.  
“‘Course ye’re welcome, boys. And if your stupid ass Dad comes around, I’ll shoot his ass so full of rock-salt, he’ll crap margaritas!”

Bobby demanded Dean would finish high-school, and try to find a job or an education that would suit him.  
So he dragged his butt through his senior year and graduated, an admissions letter from Kansas University, for Mechanical Engineering, in his pocket.  
That night, he tried to kiss his pal, Benny, who clocked him one.  
Sammy laughed himself silly at the shiner he came to breakfast with.  
Bobby just shook his head and muttered “Idjet” under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean, Dean, Dean... You should know better by now.”  
Dean threw a cocky grin at the Sheriff who uttered these words.  
“Yeah, what can I say, Jody? Some guys just have very long toes,” he replied without any signs of remorse.  
Sheriff Jody Mills shook her dark-haired head and sighed.  
“Just be glad he doesn’t wanna press charges. Mostly because he got a few good licks in too. But you broke his nose,” she scolded, but Dean just sat back, wincing slightly.  
Rolling her dark eyes, Jody walked around her desk, placed both hands on the armrest of Dean’s chair and glared at him.

“Dean Winchester. You are twenty-nine years old. Don’t you think it’s time to settle down? Stop getting into silly bar brawls? Henriksen was an easy target, because his third wife just left him, but that doesn’t mean you have to provide him like that.”  
Dean blinked his green eyes at her and smirked.  
“Oh, Victor is just a sourpuss,” was his cocky comment.  
Jody levelled him another glare as she walked back around the desk.  
“Really, Dean? Buddy, you got a problem. Now I’m not gonna cause trouble this time, but next time, I locking you up and calling Bobby to bail you out.”

Blanching, Dean dropped his cocksure, devil-may-care attitude and sat up straight.  
“Oh God. Please don’t. He’ll call me ‘idjet’ with great prejudice, and put me on oil changes for a week!”  
Jody shrugged carelessly.  
“Really? With a degree in mechanical engineering, that must suck. Big time...” She gave him a saccharine smile. “So, you gonna behave, or...” She let her hand hover over the phone on her desk.  
Dean gulped. “Look, Jodes... I can’t promise I won’t end up here again...”  
Jody lowered her hand slowly.  
“But... how about I do some community service? Huh? Little slap on my wrist,” Dean offered with his most charming smile, green eyes pleading.  
Jody sighed theatrically and dropped her hand to her side.  
“Go. Patch yourself up. Next time, I’m calling judge Mosely. She always knows just what to sentence people to.”  
Dean smiled gratefully and kissed the Sheriff on the cheek before grabbing his coat and leaving.

oooOooo

Sam woke to the sounds of Dean going through the freezer.  
With a massive sigh, he pulled on a shirt and pants and made his way to to the kitchen.  
He leaned against the doorpost, crossed his arms and sighed.  
“You got in a fight again?!” he exclaimed, exasperated. “Let me see.”  
Dean turned, bag of frozen peas in his hand, knuckles busted, but not so bad it would scar.  
The familiar sight of a black eye on his brother made Sam want to hit his other eye shut too.

“I’m fine, Sam,” Dean grumpily said, licking absentmindedly at his split lip.  
Sam pushed off the doorpost, fighting his urge to shake sense into his asinine brother.  
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Dean,” he plead for the umpteenth time.  
“You won’t find them this way.”  
Dean stared forlornly at the bag of peas.  
“I know you think that way, Sammy, but I gotta try something.”  
He stared at the teeny, tiny vine of ivy on his left index finger, the only ivy he had, Sam knew.  
“This ain’t very helpful,” Dean groused. “Nothing like yours.”

Sam bit his lip. Just six months ago, give or take, a large swirl of ivy had appeared on the back of his left hand.  
If he turned his hand sideways, so his thumb was parallel to his body, it looked a bit like a letter. Dean said an S, but Sam thought it was more of a capital G.  
“I’m sure my soulmate didn’t do that on purpose, Dean. It looks too irregular to be an intentional cut. Maybe a burn, or weird scrape from a fence or something.”  
Dean sighed and placed the peas on his eye.  
“I know, Sam. And I’m not blaming you, nor am I angry at your soulmate. Just a little jealous.”  
With another deep sigh, Dean walked past Sam, patting his shoulder.  
“I’ll stop. Promise. ‘S not worth the pain anyways...” he muttered in passing.  
Heart breaking for his brother, Sam watched him leave the kitchen to change and get ready for work.

oooOooo

Blearily wandering into his bathroom, Castiel yawned.  
He wasn’t an early bird. It always took him a while to wake up.  
The hot shower he took helped, a lot.  
The mirror was steamed up and he wiped a streak clean with his right hand.  
When he noticed the flowers on his knuckles, he kept looking straight into the mirror.  
He could see part of his face, his mouth, nose and his right eye.  
One flower lay halfway over his lower lip and a tiny second one decorated his upper-lip, right above the first.  
Trepidation tingling up his spine, Castiel wiped the rest of the mirror.

Leaning his hands on the washing basin, he slumped his shoulders and dropped his head.  
“Oh, for...” he punched out.  
He looked up again, assessing the damage.  
All along his left cheekbone and up over the corner of his left eye, the flowers bloomed.  
His soulmate got hurt... again. Castiel was torn between pity, fear and exasperation.  
As a doctor, he’d seen enough wounds from fisticuffs, to recognise that these were caused by fights.  
“Damnit!” he cursed and pulled open the medicine cabinet.

With swift and sure motions that betrayed lots of experience, he applied the foundation and concealer to his face.  
He never left the flowers uncovered when he had to work.  
They’d raise unnecessary questions, and he was just too busy to allow for them.  
He pulled on his white over-shirt, tied his blue tie and decided to forgo the suit jacket today  
He’d be in the OR most of the day, and he always did his rounds in his lab-coat.  
Another glance in the mirror told him he’d done a good job, just like Anna had taught him, years ago.  
“Whomever you are, I hope you’re just fighting for the heck of it, not survival.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel’s skin had been blissfully devoid of flowers for months after, which was a first since he left high-school, and he was glad his soulmate had found better things to do with their life.  
He was on clinic duty, and sighed.  
Dr. Zachariah Adler, the surgeon in chief, had decided it was a good idea to start week-long clinic duties.  
It was a two sided sword. On the one hand it meant pretty regular hours for a week, on the other it meant listening to all the petty things people had, or thought they had.

He took the next clipboard from the pile and glanced at it before entering the assigned examination room.  
“So. A dog bite, mr... Winchester?” he asked, perusing the form again.  
The soft chuckle wasn’t exactly what Castiel had expected.  
“Yeah. Stupid of me.” That gruff voice was just as unexpected, but Castiel did like it.  
“I knew the pick-up belonged to a sheep farmer. And what sheep farmer goes out without their dog? It was in the flatbed, and I just happened to walk by a little too close.”  
Castiel looked up from the form, and froze.  
Such green eyes... such plump, kissable lips, such a lot of blood!  
He snapped out of his stupor and cleared his throat.  
“Well, let me see then, mr. Winchester, ” he managed.

The green eyed man smiled warmly as he offered Castiel his bloodied arm. The tattered, plaid shirt sleeve was pulled free, but his patient was still wearing heavy protective gloves.  
You’ll have to take that off, mr. Winchester,” he said, pointing at the glove.  
“Just Dean will do, doc. I ain’t my old man,” the guy stated with warmth, pulling off his glove with his other gloved hand.  
Castiel cleared his throat again, examining the bite.  
“Dean then... I’m doctor Novak. Right. Well, I will just stitch this up, and then give you a tetanus booster-shot.”  
Dean stiffened.  
“Oh crap. Really doc? I hate needles.”  
Castiel tilted his head in question as he snapped on his Nitrile gloves .  
“Is that so? Why?”

Dean’s green eyes widened a bit, and his eyebrows shot up.  
“You’re the very first one to ever ask me that. It has to do with my measles shot. The guy, he must’ve been a newbie or something, but he put the needle in, and... oh God I can still hear his voice... ‘Oops. That’s wrong.’ he says and just twists it around...with the needle still in my arm.”  
Dean’s voice was strained, and his cheeks had lost all colour.  
Castiel swallowed back bile. He was a professional, he should be able to handle this.  
“Dear lord. That... That’s just wrong!” he said. “I’m sorry that had to happen to you. But your file says you haven’t had a booster-shot in over ten years.”

Dean blushed and ducked his head.  
“Yeah... can you blame me?” he asked, a little contrite.  
Castiel licked his lips as he picked out the suture equipment.  
“No. I actually cannot, but that does mean I _have_ to give you a shot. Tell me, Dean... why were you near that car in the first place?”  
He locked his eyes on those veridian orbs and waited.  
Dean blinked, then smiled as he stared back.  
“Hm. I’m a mechanic. Work with my uncle. I have a degree from KU, but I like making my hands dirty.”

Castiel threaded the needle, then looked back up.  
“KU? Are you a fellow Jayhawk?” he wondered, hoping Dean would start talking again.  
He did, and his eyes were shining as he did.  
“Yeah! You too? Gosh, you’d think we’d have met before. I have lived here for most of my life. Haven’t left since my senior year in high-school.”  
Quickly and smoothly injecting the anastethic while Dean was looking at the wall lost in thought, Castiel hummed.  
“At least you left. I never did. High-school... are you a Chesty Lion?” he dared ask.  
Dean huffed out a breath.  
“No. No way. I’m a Firebird!” he proudly claimed.

Carefully working on, Castiel nodded.  
“That would explain why I haven’t seen you before then. My mom made us go to Lawrence High. Even if Free State was closer. And the engineering building is over half an hour driving from the medical one at KU. So, unless you regularly visited the Anschutz, I’m pretty sure we couldn’t have met before.”  
Dean hummed deep in his throat, and it sent little tingles up Castiel’s spine.  
“That library between Law and Linguistics? Nah. We had the Spahr. Specially stocked for engineering.”

Castiel smiled. Distracting Dean during stitches had somehow worked.  
He snipped off the last thread and straightened.  
“There. That’s one,” he stated low, placing the needle and scissors on the tray.  
Dean blinked at him.  
“What?” he asked.  
Castiel just smiled softly.

“What year did you graduate from high-school?” he asked, determined to keep Dean talking and not paying attention to what Castiel was actually doing.  
Dean answered, and Castiel was happily surprised that it was the same year he had graduated.  
Dean easily got into reminiscing about high-school and college, while Castiel had his back to him, filling a hypodermic with the tetanus shot.  
He turned around, skilfully hiding the needle in his coat sleeve, and with a business like attitude pretended to examine Dean’s arm again.

Dean stiffened slightly at his first touch, but relaxed and waxed poetic about his baby.  
“She’s amazing, doc, for a lady who’s nearly forty.”  
Concentrating on not dropping the needle, Castiel hummed, telling himself he was only a bit disappointed that Dean was taken. He shook his arm slightly and the hypodermic just fell into his hand.  
One swift movement later, he was pushing the plunger.  
“You do realise I’m talking about my car, don’t you, doc?” Dean asked.  
Castiel hadn’t, and it explained a lot.  
“No... but then again, I have to apologise. I wasn’t really listening the last minute or so. I had to concentrate on giving you your booster,” he admitted honestly.

Dean gaped at him.  
His eyes shot from Castiel’s eyes to his hands, where he was holding the now empty hypodermic between both index finger and thumb.  
“You’re joking....”  
Castiel wiggled the empty needle, before dumping it in the obnoxiously yellow container.  
“You’re done, Dean. I’ll just wrap it up, and you’re good to go.”  
A sunny smile broke through on Dean’s face.  
“I didn’t even notice! You’re a great doc, doc! How’d you do that?”  
Castiel ducked his head at the praise, and answered like he did his junior patients.  
“Magic... I _am_ named after the angel of Thursday. Although... I’m not sure that will not scar, so maybe my halo is a bit tarnished.”

Dean watched in delight as Castiel gently wrapped the arm in gauze.  
“I want to see you in four days time, Dean. Just to be sure it isn’t infected. It shouldn’t be, but one never knows.”  
Shucking on a big leather coat, Dean grinned and Castiel had to lick his lips and swallow again.  
“Alright. See you then, doctor angel of Thursday,” Dean quipped and left, leaving Castiel to ponder on the way he’d reacted to the handsome man.


	5. Chapter 5

“Sammy! You home?” Dean hollered, lugging in the bags of groceries.  
Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway and took one of the bags.  
“You’re late, Dean. Did something happen?”  
Gingerly shedding his jacket, Dean geared up to tell him, when the big lug shoved his shoulder.  
“Dean! You promised! No more fights!”

Annoyed, feeling inexplicably sluggish and fed up, Dean snapped.  
He grabbed Sam by the wrist and glared at him.  
“I wasn’t in a fight, nosy,” he growled.  
Sam snagged his arm back and glowered at him.  
“You’re obviously hurting, Dean. Don’t lie to me!” he yelled.

Performing a master eye-roll, Dean pulled up his plaid sleeve to show the bandage.  
“It wasn’t a fight, Sam. I got bitten by a dog. Look. I went to the hospital and got cleaned up, nice and proper. By a doctor. With the most amazing blue eyes, dreamy, and he was cute...” his voice tapered off and his eyes unfocussed. He shook himself.   
“Anyway, he stitched me up and gave me a tetanus booster, so I’m golden,” he reassuringly stated.  
Sam blinked in surprise.  
“You let him stitch you up, _and_ give you a shot? Did they have a big, ape-like orderly on stand-by or something?”

Pursing his lips in irritation, Dean put away the milk.  
“No. Doc Novak somehow just kept me talking, and I didn’t notice anything. Not really. I vaguely remember the pulling and numbness in my arm, but...”  
Sam’s jaw dropped and he sat down hard.  
“Numb? You’re saying he also gave you sedation?”  
He prodded carefully at the bandage, causing Dean to ponder on how relatively painless his arm had been since he’d left the hospital. It was sore, but more like a dull muscle ache, not the stinging points of pain it had been.  
“Huh... guess so,” he agreed.

Sam gaped at him in disbelief.  
“So that is at least one shot more, if not two or three... And you let him sew you up... What happened to your totally irrational fear of anything close to needles?”  
Pouring himself a big mug of coffee, Dean shrugged.  
“I dunno, Sammy. I told the doc about it, and he got me talking. Turns out he’s a Jayhawk too, although he was a Chesty Lion...”  
Sam smirked. “So, he distracted you, by getting you all worked up about going to the snooty high-school...”

Savouring a nip from his coffee, Dean shook his head.  
“No. Honestly... who cares? It’s years back. I’m working with Bobby, and he is a doc. What’s the use of clinging to that old feud between Firebirds and Lions?”  
Impressed, Sam pulled a sturgeon face.  
“Wow... who are you and what did you do with my brother?” he quipped.  
In a flash, Dean threw an apple at him.  
“Shut up, Bitch,” he snarled.  
Sam caught it in his ivy covered hand and smirked.  
“Make me, Jerk.”

oooOooo

Castiel picked up his brother from his shop.  
“Gabriel... I have something to ask you.”  
Gabriel blinked, then pressed a faux shocked hand to his chest.  
“Are mine ears deceiving me? You want my advice?”  
Rolling his eyes, Castiel sighed.  
“Yes. Now don’t make me regret it before even asking,” he said levelly.

The mischievous twinkle in his brother’s golden eyes did not bode well.  
“Why, Cassie, I’m honoured! Tell me!” Gabriel enthused.  
Taking a deep breath, Castiel steeled himself.  
“Is it... normal, to feel... attraction to anyone who isn’t your soulmate?” he wrung out miserably.  
Gabriel tilted his head knowingly.  
“It’s a guy. You’re attracted to a guy, which may, or may not, be your soulmate... That’s why you’re here, and not asking mother.”  
Castiel groaned, but nodded.

With a triumphant smirk, Gabriel sat up.  
“The answer is simple, Cassie. Hells Yeah you can. Why d’ya think I’m currently smooching Kali? She isn’t my mate, but sweet candy-apples, she’s a firecracker in the sack!”  
He rubbed his left hand with a wistful expression.  
“I was kinda bummed when she didn’t have my mark.”

Castiel shook his head, wondering.  
“You didn’t see it immediately? I thought that’s why you had your ‘accident’.”  
Grinning because Castiel had actually used finger-quotes, Gabriel winked.  
“Yeah, but Kali is a lounge singer. She wears elbow length gloves, so I didn’t see her hands before we were... Ehm... in flagrante delicto...”

That had Castiel frown in displeased confusion.  
“You were... in public?” he asked, appalled.  
Lewdly wiggling his eyebrows, Gabriel smirked.  
“Semi. In the lounge, after-hours... on the grand piano.”  
Facepalming, Castiel groaned.  
“Only you, Gabriel. Only you.”

That had Gabriel laugh out loud, head thrown back and golden eyes crinkling in mirth.  
“Oh Cassie...but in all seriousness, little brother... you actually find someone attractive? Who? Do I know them?”  
Thinking of Dean, and what he had told him, Castiel shook his head again.  
“Highly unlikely. He’s a Firebird and a Jayhawk. Mechanical engineering. So unless you happened to have brought your car exactly to the garage he works at, or he happens to get his pie from your place, I doubt you two would have met.”

Scoffing lightly, Gabriel opened a packet of gummy bears.  
“So how did you two meet then? The Mark 5 broke down?”  
Castiel balked at that and he shot his brother a glare.  
“No! She never fails me... He actually wandered into the clinic. A dog had bitten him on the forearm. I had to stitch it, but he has trypanophobia...”  
“I don’t even wanna know what kinda phobia that is..” Gabriel interrupted and shuddered.

Castiel rolled his blue eyes and sighed.  
“Needles, Gabriel. He is deathly afraid of needles. Anyway, I had to distract him good and proper, because he also needed a tetanus booster-shot and I had to numb his arm. Here, here and here. I managed to get it all done without him noticing anything and there’s a good chance it’ll heal nicely and it might not even scar,” Castiel ended, with a little pride in his voice, smiling at his brother.

Gabriel wasn’t even listening anymore.   
He was gaping at Castiel’s arm, where, in his story, he had pulled up his shirt sleeve to show where Dean had gotten his numbing shots.  
Four ivy leaves uncurled on his arm, a bigger one, two tiny ones and another bigger. Castiel turned his arm around to find an exact copy on the other side. Four cute, little ivy leafs, all neatly in a row, but unlinked, just like the scarring a dog bite could cause.  
Castiel sank down, onto the chair Gabriel had swiftly pulled under him.  
“Well, fuck,” Gabriel said softly.


	6. Chapter 6

Humming happily to himself, Dean walked into the clinic.  
He wanted to see the cute doctor again, maybe they could hang out... not date. Definitely not date. Dean was not averse to a little exploring before he finally met his soulmate, but dating just wasn’t his thing. Dating complicated stuff.  
He sat down in the waiting room and tapped a tattoo on the tabletop with his fingers.  
“Winchester?” a petite brunette with a cocky smile called out.  
Dean rose, questions bubbling in his throat.  
“Here,” he answered, hoping this was a nurse, who would take him to sexy doctor Novak.

“Hello, handsome,” the brunette cooed as she eyed Dean up and down. “Follow me, please.”  
Dean gave her a charismatic smile by default and walked along.  
“Here we go, mr. Hot and cute,” the woman said with a mischievous smirk, pointing him through the door of an exam room. “I’m dr. Masters, but you can call me Meg.”  
Curiously, Dean tilted his head at her.  
“Dr. Masters? I thought dr. Novak was seeing me?”

“Clarence? Oh, no, sweet cheeks. He got called. Major surgery, and he’s the only one who can do it properly. So, I’m taking his shift until he’s done.”  
A bit bummed to not see dr. Novak, Dean bared his arm to dr. Masters.  
At least he got his first name now.  
She quickly took out the stitches and declared him good as new, if with four tiny scars on each side of his arm.  
“Bright side here, hot-stuff. You can check arms for ivy, cause these puppies are here to stay.”

Meg winked at him, promptly pushing her own sleeve up with a smirk.  
“Well, tough cookies. It ain’t me. I saw your ivy, so I know you got a soulmate. Good luck finding them, mr. Winchester. Until then... I’m usually free on Sundays,” she supplied in her husky voice.  
Dean smiled back at her.  
“Sorry, doc. Not really my type.”  
Meg’s smile didn’t falter. It even grew a little.  
“That’s ok, at least you’re being honest.”

oooOooo

Gabriel sighed deeply as he took out a pan of steaming muffins.  
“What’s wrong, bossman?” Garth asked as he shoved a tray of pecan pies in the next oven.  
Shrugging at his dorky, but loyal employee, Gabriel scowled.  
“Kali broke it off. Said she didn’t wanna be a plaything until I happened upon my mate. So I guess I’m just kinda bummed.”  
Garth gave him that loopy, goofy grin and hugged Gabriel tight.  
“It’ll be ok, bossman. I’m sure you’ll find them soon.”

Gabriel scoffed as he extracted himself from the hug.  
“Yeah, sure. My soulmate will just waltz right through those doors, order a cherry pie and be the most amazingly handsome person ever.”  
Garth gave him a warm, if sassy smile and a head toss.  
“Now you’re being sarcastic and nasty, boss, but who knows. Stranger things have happened.”  
Gabriel couldn’t help but return his smile.  
Garth may be an oddball, he was a wonderful kid.

The bell to the shop door rang, and Gabriel pulled on the white gloves he always used to help the customers.  
“Hello, welcome to Devine Delights. My name is Gabriel. How may I help you?” he rattled off, before even seeing his customer.  
A warm and frankly inapropriate-shiver-inducing voice, answered him.  
“Hi. I’d like a cherry pie please. It’s a surprise for my brother.”  
Gabriel looked up, and up.  
“Holy popsicle sticks! You’re a moose!”  
The tall moose-man smiled his pearly whites bare, and damn him! He had the cutest smile, dimples and all.  
His fox-like eyes twinkled and he ducked his head adorably, making his long locks fall forward.

“Yeah. I get that a lot. But you’re a short-stop, aren’t you?”  
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him.  
“Watch it, bucko. I’m the owner here, and I could secretly change your cherry pie to a rhubarb one.”  
That got a chuckle and Gabriel had to bite his lip to keep his cool.  
Damn that man was hot!   
“I’m sorry, but you were the one calling me a moose.”  
Pouting, Gabriel jerked his head to the side a bit.  
“Hmm. True. But I don’t know your name, so...”

The guy grinned, showing Gabriel those pearly whites again, and he noticed the canines were just that sexy bit longer. He nearly whined.  
“Ok. My name is Sam. Winchester, and I would like that pie, please. I wanna be home before my brother. Like I said, that pie is a surprise.”  
Looking up into those hazel eyes, Gabriel licked his lips.  
“Sure thing, Sammich. Coming right up. So, your brother is a cherry kinda guy, huh?” he tried to levitate, while getting the required pie.  
Sam kept smiling and his voice was amused.  
“Yeah... not so much as a pie kinda guy. He loves all flavours, as long as it is pie. But he does have a slight preference towards the sweeter fruits. Apple, cherry, blueberry.”

Sliding the still slightly warm pie into the box, Gabriel smirked at Sam.  
“And you? What’s your delight?” he had to ask.  
Sam leaned over and lowered his voice a bit.  
“Anything with honey. I just love honey,” he purred.  
Gut tightening, Gabriel swallowed hard.  
“Oh.. wow. Well...” Gabriel cleared his throat and pulled it together. “...you’ll love our stuff then. My brother has a hive of his own, and he gets us our honey.”  
Making a decision, he grabbed a lemon and honey cupcake.  
“Here. On the house, for unintentionally comparing you with wildlife.”

A blush spread over those high cheekbones, and Gabriel loved it.  
“Gee thanks, Gabriel,” Sam said warmly.  
Gabriel secretly basked in that warmth, as he grabbed a smaller box for the cupcake.  
“Raspberries!” he cussed low as the cupcake dripped honey on his immaculate white gloves.  
“Well, those can go straight to the laundry pile!” he stated, closing the box and pulling off his right hand glove.  
“Good thing I have these to spare, huh Sam-I-am?”

Sam didn’t answer, his gaze fixed on Gabriel’s hands.  
Tilting his head in question with a puzzled frown, Gabriel pulled off his second glove.  
Sam gasped and all colour drained from his cheeks.  
“Sam? Are you ok, bucko?” Gabriel asked, worried he might have to catch the giant if he was going to faint.  
He swiftly rounded the counter and reached for the tall man, placing a hand on his biceps, (and mother of mercy were those firm) and the other on his chest (also blissfully solid).  
He guided the deathly pale man towards one of the seats and gently sat him down.

“Garth! Could you fetch me a glass of water?” Gabriel hollered towards the bakery.  
“Sure thing, boss!” Garth called back, and mere seconds later, he passed Gabriel a cool glass.  
Garth didn’t move after Gabriel had taken it, instead focussing on the guy in the seat.  
“Heya, Sam! Fancy meeting you here! You ok there, pal? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
Sam blinked and a little colour returned to his cheeks.  
“Hey Garth... I’m... I’m ok, really. Just... a bit faint. Gabe will take care of me.”  
Garth gave Sam a swift hug and retreated with a kind “Okidoki, if you’re sure. Say Hi to your brother, will ya?”

Sam nodded and waved, still too pale for Gabriel’s liking.  
He smiled wanly at Gabriel. “I forgot he’s a hugger...” he softly murmured.  
“Here. Drink up, Samster,” Gabriel urged and passed him the glass.  
Sam looked him straight in the eyes and something determined, calculating even, appeared in his hazel-green eyes.  
“Thanks, Gabe.” Sam said and slowly, deliberately, he lifted his left hand to take the glass.  
Gabriel’s eyes dropped towards the slender fingers curling around the condensed glass.  
Then he saw it, and his legs gave out.  
A wobbly, irregularly shaped G in ivy. A perfect copy of the one he himself had made on his own left hand by pouring molten sugar over it.


	7. Chapter 7

“It must’ve hurt,” Sam said.  
They were sitting in a booth in the shop as Garth helped the customers.  
“Yeah... molten sugar is damned hot.” Gabriel agreed, his fingers tracing Sam’s ivy vines.  
“But you... your back... Sam, what happened?”  
Sam stiffened. He may have found his soulmate, but this was not something he easily discussed, especially out in a public place.  
“Can we talk about that one later, please?”

The man with the golden honey eyes and caramel hair nodded and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, fully taking him by surprise.  
“Sure thing, Sweetcakes. I gotta go check my pecan pies anyway. And you, my moose-man, need to bring your brother that pie.”  
Sam flushed as he caught sight of the clock. He’d completely forgotten Dean! He must be home by now...  
He’d been talking with Gabriel for nearly an hour, and he still wanted to know more, talk more.

“Ok, Gabe. Text me when you close shop. I’ll come get you, so you can meet Dean,” he demanded.  
Gabriel smiled warmly and took Sam’s face between his hands.  
He kissed Sam on the lips again. This time less chaste and Sam gave a soft keen as Gabe pulled back.  
“Sweet Chupa Chups, Sammykins... you’ll be the death of me, if you keep being so adorable. Git. I’ll text.”  
He slapped Sam on his butt, and Sam tensed deliciously.

oooOooo

The stern reprimand that Dean had lined up for his baby brother, died the moment Sam stepped through the door.  
He looked... radiant. There was no other word for it.  
“Dean!” Sam said excitedly, putting two boxes on the table. “Guess what.. you’ll never guess!”  
Dean chuckled and reached for the biggest box. He knew those kind of boxes, and a slice of pie, or two or three, was just what he needed.  
“Well, if I’ll never guess, I think I’ll just skip the guessing and go straight for the goods,” he said and opened the box.  
“Hmmm! Cherry! What did I do to deserve this?”

Sam actually grabbed the box away and Dean finally looked up.  
“You’re treading on thin ice, bud. My pie...”  
Shooting him a first class bitchface, Sam tapped the smaller box.  
“You can have the whole thing for all I care, because this one... that is mine. My cupcake, from my soulmate.”  
Dean had instantly forgotten the pie.  
“Your what?! You met them? Really?! Tell me everything!”

Blushing like a schoolgirl, Sam sat down, motioning at Dean to do the same.  
“Well, I wanted to surprise you, you know, because you’ve always taken care of me, and never wavered in your support.”  
Waving that off as unimportant, Dean urged him on. “Yada yada, Sammy. Get to the good stuff!”  
With a smile and a shake of his head, Sam continued. “So I went into this bakery I’d noticed the other day, to get you your pie.”  
Resigning himself to hearing every frikken detail, Dean leaned back.  
When Sam got to where the owner pulls off his gloves, he found himself on the edge of his seat anyway.  
“So he has a ‘G’ shaped burn scar of his left hand,” Sam gleefully shared.

“”So your soulmate is a tiny, mischievous baker, with golden eyes and he called you a Moose... nice. Sounds like a keeper...”   
Sam swatted his biceps. “Shut up, jerk. Yours will be great too.”  
Scoffing and pulling the pie towards himself, Dean frowned.  
“Yeah. Maybe. Didn’t get to see the sexy doc today... but I got a first name... Clarence. Who the fuck calls their kid Clarence? Poor guy.”  
Sam nudged him, almost shyly.  
“D’ya wanna meet him?” he asked quietly.  
Heart warming at the sight of his little brother, so obviously smitten, Dean smiled and the sharp answer (Yeah, so I can grill him, and tell him that if he breaks your heart, I’ll fucking break his legs) died on his tongue.  
“Sure thing, Sammy. Love to.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Castiel picked up his phone after finishing the surgery, he saw a slew of new messages, all from his brother.

‘Cassie! I found him!’

‘Well, more like he found me.’

‘Actually, he just waltzed right in my life’

‘He’s so cute’

‘And handsome.’

‘And sweet, and caring.’

‘He has a brother... *nudge, nudge*’

Rolling his eyes, Castiel called Gabriel.  
“You had _better_ not set me up with the brother of _your_ soulmate, Gabriel Eric Novak!” Cas hissed in the phone.  
Gabriel’s happy laughter lifted Castiel’s grumpy mood. “Hey there Cassie! Why not?”  
Castiel huffed a breath. “Because I’m not looking for a hook-up. I would like to wait for my soulmate.”  
Gabriel sighed. “I know, bucko. Did ya get to see your dog bite guy? Compare arms?”  
That returned Castiel’s sour mood. “It could be a coincidence, Gabriel. And you know it.”

“I know, Cassie. I know. But did you see him?”  
Gods! Gabriel was like a dog with a bone at times. “No. I didn’t. I had an emergency surgery, and Meg had to cover my clinic-duty. She did the check-up.”  
He could hear the disappointed sigh Gabriel tried to cover. “I’m sorry Cassie. It would’ve been great if we both met our mates on the same day, though.”  
Deciding to not ruin the already obsolete idea, by pointing out he had met Dean four days ago, Castiel just hummed.

“Oh!” Gabriel suddenly gasped. “My Samshine just texted. You up for meeting him and our incipient brother in-law? Sounds like big bro is making a celebratory lasagna, and gracefully agreed to share the pie Sammykins bought for him.”  
Unable to deny Gabriel when he was this happy, and frankly a little curious about ‘Sammykins’, Castiel agreed.  
“Awesome. Get that sexy butt ready to go within the hour. Sam is picking us up!”  
“Gabriel,” Castiel moaned, exasperated. “You’re my brother, you pervert!”  
More chuckles. “Doesn’t mean I can’t recognise your butt is sexy, bro. Just... wear casual, ok? It isn’t a charity function, just meeting your soon-to-be brother in-law.”  
“Fine,” Castiel groused.

oooOooo

He was just putting the lasagna together, when Sam came bouncing in.   
“Gabe answered me,” he beamed. Dean loved the happy glow Sam was radiating. Having his baby brother looking so happy just warmed his heart. “Yeah?” he hummed, layering the béchamel sauce with pasta sheets. “What did he say?”  
‘He’s bringing his younger brother Castiel with him,” Sam replied with a wink. “Maybe you’ll hit it off with him.”  
Dean sighed and turned to look his brother in the eyes. “Sammy, no,” he adamantly said. “I didn’t get to see sexy doc Clarence, but that doesn’t mean I need to get matched up with the baby brother of your mate. And don’t give me the ‘but he could be your soulmate’-shtick. I’ll meet them when I’ll meet them. If it is this Casta... Castee... Cas, great. But I’m not getting my hopes up.”

He turned back to his dish. “Besides, I really want to see Clarence again. I liked him.”  
Sam hummed. “What?” Dean snapped over his shoulder.  
“So, get this,” Sam started, and Dean just knew he’d get a buttload of information, or a really deep theory, so he put his ladle in the meat sauce and turned around.  
“I have this silly theory,” Sam continued. “That we’d be seriously attracted to our soulmates, even if we didn’t have the visual confirmation that they are in fact our mate. I mean, you saw Charlie, with Dorothy. Neither had visible marks, and they only met at work, where the dress-code was covering all limbs. Still they were drawn to each-other and only when they took it to the next level...”   
Dean nodded. That was true. But he sensed Sam had more to say, so he waited.  
“And before Gabe pulled off his gloves, I really liked him too. He’s funny. I was kinda hoping he’d turn out to be my soulmate.” Sam grinned by now. “If he hadn’t had the mark, I’d still would have asked him out on a date.”  
Dean hummed. “Fine. I’ll stop moaning about it, now git. I’m gonna make a salad and garlic bread, if we have a fourth to feed.”

The door opened and closed, just as Dean pulled the lasagna dish from the oven.  
“Hi guys! Be right out!” he called towards the living room. “Just popping in the garlic bread to heat up. Dinner will be done in five.”  
He finished up, shoving the bread in the still warm oven to heat up.  
Wearing his novelty bear oven-mitts, Dean carried the dish of piping hot pasta to the table.  
Sam and their guests were sitting on the sofa, the backs of their heads visible above the backrest.  
Sam’s long mane was bent downwards, toward where Dean can just see the top of a head of caramel coloured locks. On that guy’s other side, a mop of messy dark hair looked horribly familiar.  
“Clarence?” Dean gasped, making the dark head swivel around, blue eyes wide.  
“Dean?” came that gravelly voice that Dean had longed to hear all day.   
Sam’s hair was swishing around his head as he looked from his brother to his guest.  
“Dean,” he queried, his voice full of wonder. “Why did you call him Clarence? This is Castiel, Gabriel’s brother.”


	9. Chapter 9

The gruff voice calling out a name only his colleague Meg used, had Cas whip his head around.  
Not believing his eyes, he took in the bowlegged man with the green eyes that had been haunting his dreams for days now.  
“Dean?”  
Dean was carrying a large, steaming dish that wafted a strong, cheese-and-tomato smell.  
When Sam asked Dean why he’d called Cas by another name, Cas chuckled.  
“He must have gotten it from my colleague, Megan. She always calls me that. And I wasn’t there to correct her.”  
He smiled warmly at Dean, wanting nothing more than to grab the man and pull him over to check his arm.  
Dean threw him a slanted smile back. “Lemme just put this on the table. Then we can properly meet.”

He turned and slid the dish carefully onto a table-mat. When he turned back and reached out his hand, Cas chuckled. Dean was wearing oven-mitts shaped like a bear, and when he reached out his hand, the mouth opened, showing teeth and a tongue with a dripping honeycomb and a single, angry looking bee.  
“Will it bite me?” Cas teased with a straight face.   
Dean’s wonderful, green eyes darted to his hand and he facepalmed, the bear seeming to eat his brow.  
Cas chuckled, but sobered at once when Dean pulled off the mitt from his left hand. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, so once the mitt was off, Cas should be able to see if Dean had matching scars to the ivy that had appeared on Cas’ arm.

oooOooo

Dean noticed how those blue eyes went from twinkling with mirth, to being glued to Dean’s arm.  
There were few reasons that could explain that kind of reaction, and one of them stood out like a minister in a whore-house.  
Cas was expecting something to show up. Praying with all his might that it was scars, and not tattoos, Dean shucked off the mitt, showing the world the tiny, white scars on his arm.  
Cas gasped, grabbed the arm and turned it over. A blinding smile graced the already super cute face.  
“It is you,” Cas breathed, and rucked up his own left sleeve. Dean’d eyes were drawn to it like magnets.

There, on the tan skin, four ivy leafs stood out. Cas turned his arm over, showing the underside. Another four leafs, all neatly lined up, like Dean’s dog bite scars.  
Dean huffed out a laugh. “You’re joking...”  
Cas blanched. “You don’t seem pleased,” he said softly. “Are you... homophobic?”  
That had Dean bark out a laugh. “No, no way,” he chuckled. “That would be hypocritical, seeing I am bi.” He cupped Cas’ cheek with a tender hand. “And I am pleased, Cas. I am frikken extatic! I’d hoped it was you, from the day you stitched me up.”  
Something tender replaced the uncertainty in Cas’ eyes.  
“Me too, Dean. Me too.”

 


End file.
